


Milestones

by Vakaara



Series: Under My Skin [4]
Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Background VegeBul, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Kissing, M/M, Morning Cuddles, Saiyan headcanons, birthday prompt, kakavegeweek2021
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-22 08:28:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30035865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vakaara/pseuds/Vakaara
Summary: Goku still doesn’t quite get the importance of calendars sometimes. Maybe Vegeta will understand?
Relationships: Son Goku/Vegeta (Dragon Ball)
Series: Under My Skin [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1735372
Comments: 7
Kudos: 44
Collections: Kakavege week #10





	Milestones

The ground cratered under Vegeta. He growled, shooting himself clear with a burst of ki just as Kakarot flung a blast to the ground where he’d been.

Vegeta twisted, aiming a ki burst at the place Kakarot had occupied, but he’d vanished.

There was a breath for Vegeta to think _oh shit_ , before Kakarot’s boot slammed into his back, flinging him to the ground again. 

Dust filled his nose, an irritation. Vegeta gathered his hands under him, moving to spring back into the fight, but Kakarot’s weight crashed on top of him, strong hands pinning Vegeta’s wrists.

“Gotcha,” Kakarot said, disgustingly satisfied. 

Vegeta growled. Kakarot increased the pressure against his wrists slightly, squeezed his thighs tighter against Vegeta’s sides. 

The sheer power of him. It was familiar now, almost comfortable, but losing to Kakarot still sent a dizzying combination of conflicting impulses through Vegeta. Shame. Admiration. 

Lately, lust. 

“One,” Kakarot said, patiently starting a countdown, that old habit from their gravity room training before Cell, “two,” 

“Alright, fine, I yield,” Vegeta huffed. Kakarot loosened his grip, easy now for Vegeta to slip out of if he wanted, then paused. 

Leaned down. 

“This isn’t a bad position,” Kakarot purred in his ear, shifting to suck the lobe teasingly into his mouth.

Pulled back a minute later, coughing.

“Bit dusty,” Vegeta told him, letting a short laugh escape as he twisted, putting his back to the ground. Kakarot pulled a face, then grinned down at him. Rested his hands lightly against the chest plate of Vegeta’s armor. 

Regardless of who won, their spars generally ended the same way these days. 

“You weren’t trying very hard,” Kakarot accused him, leaning down to bite at Vegeta’s lower lip. Vegeta tilted his head, pressing up towards Kakarot, desire pooling, “you didn’t even bring out that new sparkly form. I wanted to see it again.”

Vegeta twisted his hands in Kakarot’s hair, pulled him into a firmer kiss, tongues sliding together, before pushing Kakarot away slightly. “You didn’t bring out your new form, either.”

Ultra instinct. A form that awed even the gods. Of course Kakarot would manage to attain it. Vegeta was equal parts proud and infuriated. 

Kakarot wrinkled his nose, looking genuinely frustrated. “Can’t do it at will yet.”

Couldn’t he? Now there was some interesting information.

Kakarot chuckled. “Did I finally get your attention with that, Vegeta?”

“You already had my attention.” Vegeta rested his hands on Kakarot’s hips, and wondered if Kakarot understood just how much of Vegeta’s attention he truly commanded, had always commanded. Hopefully not.

“Oh,” Kakarot’s demeanor shifted suddenly, less teasing, attention to the sky. “We’ve got incoming.”

Gohan’s ki. Far enough away still for them to make themselves presentable, but barely.

That wasn’t usual at all, for one of the kids to interrupt their spars. Was there some kind of emergency?

“Did you forget something?” Vegeta asked, clapping dust off his armor as he stood. They really needed to find a better location next time.

“No, I don’t think so.” Kakarot frowned, confused. “What would I have forgotten?”

“Dad!” Gohan was landing, looking slightly exasperated. Not a life or death situation, then. His clothing was casual, not for fighting and not the strange ensembles he’d taken to wearing for his scholar work.

“What’s up, Gohan?” Kakarot was all smiles and warmth. 

Gohan shook his head, smiling back, but it was still an exasperated smile. “You forgot, didn’t you?”

“What?” Kakarot yelped, at the same time that Vegeta snorted, “told you.”

“It’s Goten’s birthday today,” Gohan said, with a carefully patient air, “mom asked me to come and remind you while there was still time to clean up.” 

“Oh! Whoops.” Kakarot was rubbing the back of his head, that familiar nervous gesture, apologetic. “Guess I’m still not real good with calendar stuff.”

He was atrocious. Vegeta had seen no evidence whatsoever of attempts to improve, either.

A sigh from Gohan, a smile that was just a little tired, “well, now you know. Let’s head back so we’re not late.”

“Right!” Kakarot turned, made an aborted gesture towards Vegeta, went slightly red and stepped back. “See you later, Vegeta!”

Then he was gone, a trail of ki towards Mt Paozu. 

“Um,” Gohan was a little red as well, waved awkwardly in a motion combined with his escape, “see you later, Vegeta.”

His ki trail followed his father’s, fading quickly.

Vegeta sighed, shook his head. Gohan had been aware of Vegeta’s relationship with Kakarot for a couple years now, courtesy of what sounded like a painfully awkward conversation between him and Kakarot, but it was generally not acknowledged. Too far from what Gohan had grown up expecting from his parents. 

Just as well Kakarot hadn’t given Vegeta a kiss goodbye in any case. That was entirely too _domestic_. In situations with an audience, he only just barely tolerated it from Bulma.

In private was a different matter. 

Vegeta took a moment to examine the ground, littered with impact sites from their spar. A satisfying devastation.

Goten’s birthday would likely keep Trunks well-occupied this evening, almost certainly ending with Trunks staying over at Mt Paozu. Vegeta stretched. Perhaps they could convince Bulla to sleep early too, and have an evening without childish interruptions.

* * *

“Ah!” Bulma collapsed backwards, a blissful smile on her face, “this is _perfect_.”

Vegeta settled on the couch next to her, balancing popcorn, and she flopped sideways to rest her cheek on his shoulder with a satisfied sigh. “It has been _way_ too long since we last had a night off.”

“Mm,” Vegeta agreed, handing her the remote. She flipped through the menu, resuming the show they’d only managed to watch one episode of. Vegeta was a bit vague on the plot, but it appeared to involve hunting monsters, and the main character was both impressively muscled and seemed to spend quite a lot of time shirtless. 

For reasons that had become quite apparent in the first episode, it was not rated for children at the tender age of 13, where Trunks still sat.

Vegeta tipped his head to rest his cheek against Bulma’s blue hair, silently and idly critiquing the flaws in the fighting on screen. So much wasted movement, and surely he could muster more power to those swings?

“How bad is he?” Bulma asked, amused, knowing full well that Vegeta could no more watch a fight without picking it apart than she could watch a technological display without tearing it to shreds. 

From what Vegeta gathered, the Earthlings were even worse at representing technology in their entertainment than they were at representing fighting, and that was saying something.

“I’ve seen worse.” 

Bulma reached out to pat his chest, either conciliatory or in appreciation, and left her hand there, comfortable. Vegeta yawned and slouched over slightly further, leaning, relaxed.

* * *

Three hours later, the popcorn was long finished, and their yawns were coming more frequently.

“I feel old,” Bulma mumbled, sounding annoyed, “do you feel old?”

“No,” Vegeta lied, trying to sound more awake than he felt, “Saiyans have far longer lifespans than you humans.”

She slapped his thigh half-heartedly. “Show-off.” 

They should probably go to bed before they just fell asleep here on the couch. Vegeta made a half-hearted attempt to reclaim the remote to hit the pause button.

“Nuh-uh, one more,” Bulma held it out of reach in her opposite hand, and Vegeta leaned over further to stretch for it. Bulma squeaked as more of his weight landed on her, then fell backwards giggling.

Kakarot teleported into the living room. 

“Uh,” he blinked at the scene before him, with what looked to Vegeta almost like a hurt expression, “I guess this is a bad time?”

It was always strange seeing him in casual Earth clothing. By preference he seemed to wear various colors of gi even if he wasn’t wearing his trademark orange. The party had apparently been occasion for ChiChi to wrangle him into a dark blue button up shirt and light jeans. Perhaps the shirt had fit at one point, but if so Kakarot had gained more muscle since then. It was tight on his bicep as he raised his hand to rub at the back of his head. 

“It’s not really a bad time,” Bulma relented and hit pause on the show as Vegeta sat back upright, puzzling over Kakarot’s odd demeanor, “we were just watching TV.”

“Right.” Kakarot had his arms crossed now, was shifting his weight awkwardly, none of his usual ease.

“What’s wrong, Goku?” Bulma voiced what Vegeta had been wondering.

“No, nothing’s wrong, just…,” Vegeta wondered what the hell had happened to actually bother Kakarot this much, “just, ah, wanted to visit?”

It wasn’t so unusual. Kakarot could teleport, Vegeta could fly. They’d often arrange to spend the night in the same place, frequently one of Capsule Corp’s many rooms. Bulma had cracked some vaguely concerning jokes about setting up a camera. 

“No problem,” Bulma slapped Vegeta shoulder, offering him up, “here you go.” 

He glared at her. She smiled sweetly back. 

“Er,” Kakarot said, still frozen in indecision. Vegeta took pity on him and stood, caught Kakarot’s wrist to drag him to their room.

* * *

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Vegeta demanded, using his grip on Kakarot’s wrist to swing Kakarot’s bulk towards the bed. The backs of Kakarot’s knees hit the frame, and he sat obediently when Vegeta pushed at his shoulders.

“Nothing’s wrong!” Vegeta narrowed his eyes, ready to call Kakarot on his bullshit. The threat must have come through, judging by Kakarot’s wince. He raised a hand to rub at the back of his head again. 

“Will you fucking _quit that_.” Vegeta captured both of Kakarot’s wrists, pulling them against his chest so that Kakarot couldn’t repeat that damnable guilt-ridden motion. Kakarot blinked, tipped his head back a bit to look up at Vegeta. Saw something that made him sigh, lean forwards, push his hands closer to Vegeta, palms touching Vegeta’s chest then moving to slide past his rib cage once Vegeta released his grip. 

Kakarot wrapped his arms around Vegeta, tugged him closer. Vegeta took a step forward, standing between Kakarot’s knees with his shins practically touching the bed. Kakarot buried his face against the muscle of Vegeta’s chest, squeezed his arms tight around Vegeta’s waist. 

What to do with his hands? Vegeta eventually settled for resting one lightly on Kakaraot’s shoulder, fingers of the other tangled in Kakarot’s hair. 

“You still owe me an explanation,” he accused. 

“Yeah.” Kakarot tightened his grip, one hand coming up to splay against Vegeta’s back. He was quiet for a long moment. Vegeta clenched his teeth, forcing patience.

“Did we celebrate birthdays, on our home planet?”

What? The question threw Vegeta completely.

“Why?” 

“It’s just…,” Kakarot sighed again, still bizarrely melancholy, and nudged his nose against Vegeta’s collarbone as if he could possibly get even closer, “I just don’t understand them, really, why they matter.”

Ah. Something that had happened at the event, perhaps? Vegeta frowned slightly, remembering Gohan’s gentle exasperation that afternoon.

“There’s always been stuff like that,” Kakarot continued, soft voice slightly muffled by Vegeta’s shirt, “stuff that I thought was just me being weird, but then I met you, and it turned out that a bunch of weird stuff about me was stuff that’s normal for a Saiyan.”

Vegeta tensed, startled. Pressed close as he was, Kakarot noticed, pulling back to watch Vegeta with too-careful eyes. Closed off in a way that didn’t suit him. 

“I don’t remember,” Vegeta told him honestly, trying to hide the unexpected pain of that statement, “I was so young, when we lost our planet.”

Kakarot smiled, soft, rubbed a thumb against Vegeta’s hip through the fabric of his shirt. “You’d probably still remember birthdays, if Saiyans make as big a deal of ‘em as people on Earth do.”

That was a good point. “I suppose I would.” 

The warmth of Kakarot’s smile looked normal, for a moment, his usual sunny self brought out for Vegeta. But the smile faded as Kakarot stopped directing his attention to it. Vegeta curled his fingers through the shorter hairs near Kakarot’s neck, scraped fingers lightly against Kakarot’s scalp. Received far less reaction to his attention than was usual. 

“You still haven’t told me what happened.” Clearly something must have. 

“Nothing, really,” Kakarot sighed, leaned forwards again to rest against Vegeta, “just a thousand little things, I guess.”

“I see.” Vegeta smoothed his hand down Kakarot’s neck, dug his thumb lightly into the too-tight muscles of Kakarot’s back. 

“It’s just that they were disappointed, a little,” Kakarot murmured, “that I forgot.”

“Hm,” Vegeta encouraged. 

“And it’s like that every year. It’ll probably keep being like that every year. Just that little bit of disappointment, over and over.”

Vegeta’s fingers clenched against the back of Kakarot’s shirt, the fabric too tight to bunch under his hand. 

“I didn’t mean to make a fuss,” Kakarot told him softly, “I just thought… maybe it’d make sense to you. So I wanted to see you. After.”

The perpetual abrasion of existing on a planet, within a society, that was not his own. Weight given to things he could never understand the reasoning of. Things of vast importance to him ignored entirely.

He and Bulma had spent plenty of time shouting at each other over the gaps, in their early years. Incomprehensible hurts laid bare to weaponize. 

It had, bizarrely, helped. 

“I understand, Kakarot,” Vegeta told him. Watched as Kakarot lifted his head again, felt a pang at the _hope_ in the man’s expression. “It’s hard to meet an expectation that you can’t see the sense of.”

Kakarot collected Vegeta’s hands, left their linked fingers between them, rested against Kakarot’s spread legs. “I know that it’s important to them. It just never sticks all the way in my head.”

“Just have technology remember for you, or something.” That was what Vegeta had ended up doing, with dates that were designated as important. The Earth calendar still felt strange and, perhaps unsurprisingly, alien to him. Probably always would, after the number of different timekeeping systems he’d gone through. They were things to exist within, but the marking of time on this planet would never hold intrinsic meaning for him.

“Yeah, I’m not great at technology either.” Kakarot shrugged, gave a lopsided smile that looked more genuine. Starting to return to normal, finally, now that Vegeta had dragged the problem out of him. 

“That sounds like a challenge for Bulma,” Vegeta advised, “a Kakarot-proof wrist calendar.”

“Maybe you could help?” The words spilled out of Kakarot, but he abruptly looked horrified once they’d left his mouth.

As he should. “I’m not your fucking secretary, Kakarot.”

Kakarot winced. “I know. I’m sorry. I shouldn't have asked that.”

Vegeta glared. Irritation enough to navigate his own calendar-based responsibilities, without adding Kakarot’s. 

But Kakarot was so unnaturally subdued, and Vegeta remembered the disconcertingly gloomy expression he’d showed up to the house with. How poorly it suited him.

“I will give you _one_ reminder each time,” Vegeta relented, “I’m not chasing you around if you forget again after that.”

The smile that split Kakarot’s face was blinding. Vegeta had only a brief moment to appreciate it before Kakarot dragged him in for a bruising kiss.

* * *

He woke slowly, warm sun on his back. Kakarot’s scent filled his nose, comforting. Vegeta sighed, shifted slightly against Kakarot’s bulk, cheek warm against Kakarot’s bare muscled chest. 

“Mornin’,” Kakarot told him, voice fond. 

He sounded suspiciously alert. “Just how long have you been awake?”

A tiny shrug, jostling Vegeta. “Since the sun came up. Thought about gettin’ up, but you seemed pretty happy there.”

“Hmph.” Vegeta slapped Kakarot’s shoulder in what was meant to be disagreement, but came out more as appreciation, fingers lingering against Kakarot’s bicep for too long.

“Nothin’ wrong with that,” Kakarot told him, shifting his arm behind Vegeta to trace lazy circles against Vegeta’s back. Vegeta was caught up for a moment in competing urges, eventually gave in to them both, first biting sharply at Kakarot’s neck, but then following it up with a softer kiss near his collarbone. 

“Mmm,” Kakarot said, sounding utterly content. 

Vegeta traced fingers across Kakarot’s pectorals, trailed his hand lower, dipping towards Kakarot’s waistband. “Since you had the nerve to show up here unannounced in the middle of the night just to complain, you could at least show some appreciation before running off again this morning.”

“I’m always appreciative,” Kakarot said, sounding faintly indignant even as he flipped them over, grinning down at Vegeta with a hint of his battlefield sharpness. “Here, I’ll show you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah so they’re watching the Witcher.


End file.
